


The Usual

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 11:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey gets more than his usual for lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a regular day. The sun was barely up in the early morning, so the air was crisp with the remnants of night. Dew clung to the fresh-cut blades of grass, and there was a slight fog seen between the buildings. The bus Mickey Milkovich was on rocked and swayed, as passengers sat quietly wondering to themselves why on earth they were awake. They made their way down the busy street, stopping and going in the occasional city traffic. Garbagemen picked up trash, street vendors set up their tables of knockoff souvenirs and boiled hotdogs, and shop owners put out fresh flowers and produce and swept their piece of sidewalk. Mickey sat with his briefcase on his knees, looking out the dirty window as his headphones blasted music into his ears. The bus came to a stop in front of a large corporate building, men and women in various shades of suites bustling into the rotating door. Mickey got up and exited, nodding to the driver like they were best buddies.

 He squeezed into the moving doorway along with the other workers, and out the other side into a large lobby with elevators on one side and shining black linoleum throughout. But first he had to go through security. He smiled and joked casually with the guards as they searched his person and his belongings, then ran to catch a closing elevator on its way up. The elevator bounced to a stop on the seventh floor and the doors slid open with a ding, expelling its occupants. Mickey stepped off and turned the corner, went through some double doors, then walked down a long hallway. He passed just as many closed doors as open ones, sometimes catching a meeting or presentation in progress, or poking his head in on his coworkers’ offices to greet them. Everyone he came in contact with smiled and waved back, if not to stop and chat for a bit. Mickey came out into an open office area, and weaved through cubicles and desks.

He was friendly and liked by many of his office members and glad he worked somewhere where that was reciprocated. He even felt a little flattered when some of the women beamed and giggled at his presence, obviously smitten with him. Copiers, fax machines, shredders, printers and phones filled the room with a cacophony of sounds. They hardly seemed to bother Mickey anymore, as he keyed open the door to his office and went inside. He flipped on the light-switch, illuminating his mix of wood and leather furniture in buzzing fluorescence. He hung his trenchcoat on the hook and set his briefcase down on his huge desk. Directly behind this was a wall of windows that let in the most amazing view of the city over-top some smaller high-rises. The sun was just beginning to peak over them, making the sky brighter and look orange in the thick haze that tended to settle in the heart of the city. Cars and trucks and buses and people all moved down below in a continuous throng; fast-paced and busy, no time for anything but coffee and breathing. Speaking of which, Mickey headed to the breakroom and found a fresh pot already brewed. He filled a mug and walked back to his office after getting some papers from his personal tray. He sipped at it cautiously, finally sitting down in his expensively ergonomic swivel chair. Mickey logged onto his computer and settled in, seeing that it was still only eight. He spent the rest of the morning checking and deleting emails, answering phonecalls and finishing up the final slides of his presentation due next week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey gets more than his usual for lunch.

Mickey steps out into the street, sliding through bumpers of cars and taxi’s idling at a red light, and narrowly getting swiped by a bicyclist. The air is thick with the smells of the street: restaurant food mixed with a coat of dirt and grime that’s been stuck since the city’s development, and exhaust fumes. And definitely sweat. The afternoon sun beams off the shiny building windows, as Mickey walks down the sidewalk to his usual place for lunch.He maneuvers easily through the crowd of rushing business people trying to get something in their stomachs before they have to get back to the grind. He adjusts his shirtsleeves, rolling them up past his elbows, as he passes the fleeting cool of open shop doors. It reminds him he wants to visit that new place that sells vintage ties. He goes another block and a half before he comes to the small sandwich shop he discovered since working at his job, and come to love. The food was good, the people were friendly, and it wasn’t expensive. Mickey was doing alright in the money department, but he didn’t need to spend twenty bucks on a cup of soup and crackers at the employee cafeteria. Even though he’d been going for years now, it didn’t seem like anyone hardly ever went in. It was never busy, so he could get in and out in no time, but it wasn’t like he was in a rush to get back to his office. Besides, they knew him there.

He stepped through the propped-open door and stopped to look over the specials on the chalkboard sign, even though he was going to get what he always got. There was a woman standing at the counter ordering, so Mickey stood by with his hands in his pockets. A small television mounted to the wall was always showing a different movie each day. That was another part of the place Mickey liked. And whatever was playing was always something good, which was why he found himself often staying to eat there and having to rush back for a meeting or conference call, which he had one scheduled for today. Today’s movie was Short Circuit. Mickey chuckled at the familiar eighties movie, stepping up to the counter as the woman left.

He smiled at the kid standing behind the glass. Or maybe he wasn’t a kid, just young-looking. He smiled back, greeting Mickey and asking what he wanted. Without thinking, Mickey said he’d have his usual, but clearly this guy was new judging by the confused face he made. Mickey hadn’t seen him there before. He was tall with red hair and freckles. Probably some Irish in there, Mickey thought as he noticed his hazel eyes. His nametag said Ian. He quickly apologized and joked that he probably had no idea what his usual was. He caught himself teasing that it was a test he had to pass. Mickey felt a little like an idiot until Ian genuinely laughed at that. He seemed nice, easy to talk to. And that grin. This guy just exuded charm and confidence that was putting even Mickey to shame. He was funny and cute. It was sort of beguiling, and Mickey was afraid he was starting to blush. He ordered his turkey and ham with pepper jack and mustard on toasted white, enjoying the way Ian repeated everything he said in a show of trying really hard to commit it to memory. He asked if Mickey really got the same thing every time he came, and Mickey bashfully admitted he did. Ian commended him for knowing what he wanted, then suggested he try something different the next time he came in. He asked if Mickey trusted him, looking him in the eyes and Mickey wasn’t entirely sure they were talking about sandwiches, but he still nodded and agreed to let Ian make him something. Mickey asked who picked that day’s movie, and Ian shamelessly said he had, smiling like he was actually proud of himself. Mickey outwardly showed his disappointment at having to get back for his conference call, and therefore not being able to stay and watch. Ian actually looked a little disappointed too, but promised him he would play it again tomorrow just for him. Now Mickey was really blushing.

Mickey grabbed his sandwich and a bag of chips and a drink, and paid, watching the redhead as he worked the register. Ian handed him his receipt and Mickey thanked him. Their hands touched briefly and Mickey felt like he had been struck by lightening and brought to life just like Johnny 5. Ian just sort of smiled, but his face said he felt it too. Just before Mickey reluctantly turned to go, Ian said he should put his card in the bowl on the counter for a drawing for a special free lunch. Mickey looked from the empty bowl to Ian, then pulled one of his business cards from its case and put it into the bowl slowly, keeping his eyes on Ian. Mickey said goodbye and Ian told him he’d see him the next day for his usual. Mickey left the shop, looking at his watch and seeing he only had a few minutes to get back to his office. But instead he went back inside the deli and said he forgot some napkins, grabbing a few from the dispenser. Ian looked amused as he wiped down a few tables. Mickey glanced at the bowl on the counter and saw that it was empty.


End file.
